My soul is hungry for breath taking experiences. My existence is growing restless so tired of a manufactured world without essence. I long for days without cement and highways and cars and police cars and ambulances. Radio news on rape and murder and political games that manipulate the consciousness into believing that we are right and they are wrong; that we have leaders that have our interests close to their hearts.
All I see around is misery! I see physical misery in the eyes of the children begging for money to buy drugs and are filled with tears when I give them clothes or food as if thanking me for recognizing that beyond their disastrous existence they are still children. I see young women and men starting to enter the machine, they all talk the same, dress the same, eat the same, it is as if I am witnessing a mass production of corporate breeds.
I am tired of trying to fill the emptiness in me with the illusory satisfaction of possession. Want, want, want! More luxury, more labels, more climbing up a ladder that doesn’t exist. I want to stare at a wild flower, not a branded garment in the window of a shop I cannot afford.
My eyes are stuck in the infinity of horizons shaped by mountains, the serenity of horizons hanging far in the ocean, the immensity of the horizons in the planes of Africa.